The difference, perhaps the only difference between me and them, is that they are a one-trick pony.
Me? I'm a multiple-trick-pony who goes by the name Trickster! Or Captain Boomerang. Whatever.
Oh, I need to go take a dump now. Work beckons.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Confidence Men
Nowadays, in Malaysia, we don't hear the politicians talking about the people.
Even the lipstick liberals (Zaid Ibrahim and friends) are not talking about the people. In fact, the lipstick liberals who were for freedom of speech, are now suing journalists, therefore trying to destroy freedom of speech. So that their individual image remains clean. The politicians are now only talking exclusively about themselves.
This is because their industry (Industry of lies and thievery and daylight robbery) relies so much on the goodwill of the people. You will have goodwill, not because you are doing anything beneficial, but if you are a celebrity.
Ever wonder why a lot of politicians marry or rumoured to have affairs with celebrities? Cause the only way they can get votes is if they're famous.
Fuck the manifesto. Fuck the agenda. Fuck the plight of the people. It's all about me. Memememememe. And MONEY. Even when talking about the people, it is in the context of me. Of I.
"I will do this and that."
"I will get it right."
Not many have asked the question, "How?" as they are so stuck with the "Who."
I suggest we kill them all. Politicians never cared about us. Maybe there were one or two. The rest?
Just listen to their speeches now and then. Read their writings. It's always about them, or how they are fucking superior in comparison to other people. How other politicians are wrong and they are right. Never about issues. Never about people.
Their petty fights and grandstanding trying to make it a Coke Vs Pepsi situation.
Kill them all. Kill all con-men.
Even the lipstick liberals (Zaid Ibrahim and friends) are not talking about the people. In fact, the lipstick liberals who were for freedom of speech, are now suing journalists, therefore trying to destroy freedom of speech. So that their individual image remains clean. The politicians are now only talking exclusively about themselves.
This is because their industry (Industry of lies and thievery and daylight robbery) relies so much on the goodwill of the people. You will have goodwill, not because you are doing anything beneficial, but if you are a celebrity.
Ever wonder why a lot of politicians marry or rumoured to have affairs with celebrities? Cause the only way they can get votes is if they're famous.
Fuck the manifesto. Fuck the agenda. Fuck the plight of the people. It's all about me. Memememememe. And MONEY. Even when talking about the people, it is in the context of me. Of I.
"I will do this and that."
"I will get it right."
Not many have asked the question, "How?" as they are so stuck with the "Who."
I suggest we kill them all. Politicians never cared about us. Maybe there were one or two. The rest?
Just listen to their speeches now and then. Read their writings. It's always about them, or how they are fucking superior in comparison to other people. How other politicians are wrong and they are right. Never about issues. Never about people.
Their petty fights and grandstanding trying to make it a Coke Vs Pepsi situation.
Kill them all. Kill all con-men.
Moore Demon-cracy!
I just saw Michael Moore's Capitalism: A Love Story. It is his latest documentary, this time concerning how some fat cats from Wall Street orchestrated the robbing, pillaging and raping of the American people.
What interests me is not the plight of the Americans. Living in the 'World's Greatest Country' also means that you live with the 'World's Greatest Crooks and Conmen' and 'World's Greatest Idiot'.
Nope. What caught my eye was how some solutions were posed by Moore. There was a company there, where ALL employees at a bread and at a machinery factory have equal share of the profits. Not talking about stupid stock options. I still have, or may no longer have, NSTP stock options. That was bullshit.
No, those companies actually exist with the CEO and the cleaner sharing equal profits. The numbers went beyond US$15 million a year, for a group of 70 workers. The guy who packs bread makes US$65,000 a year, which is three times that of an airline pilot in the US. Productivity is also very high.
I see greedy people in Malaysia. They may be up on the food chain, or very low, and I hope their days are numbered.
Least we could do is raid and pillage the rich, before they raid and pillage our pension shit.
ANyone with a house that looks like a UFO on top of a hill? We should go there and take the house. Dibs on the big-screen TVs.
Take out capitalists and liberals and politicians, and we are halfway to heaven.
In fact, politicians, right? How about if we kill all of them? The next elections, don't throw unlit Molotov cocktails at them, or feed them dog food. Let's just kill them. Kill them all. Their families as well. Ham ka chan!
Let the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. And the many, needs your blood.
What interests me is not the plight of the Americans. Living in the 'World's Greatest Country' also means that you live with the 'World's Greatest Crooks and Conmen' and 'World's Greatest Idiot'.
Nope. What caught my eye was how some solutions were posed by Moore. There was a company there, where ALL employees at a bread and at a machinery factory have equal share of the profits. Not talking about stupid stock options. I still have, or may no longer have, NSTP stock options. That was bullshit.
No, those companies actually exist with the CEO and the cleaner sharing equal profits. The numbers went beyond US$15 million a year, for a group of 70 workers. The guy who packs bread makes US$65,000 a year, which is three times that of an airline pilot in the US. Productivity is also very high.
I see greedy people in Malaysia. They may be up on the food chain, or very low, and I hope their days are numbered.
Least we could do is raid and pillage the rich, before they raid and pillage our pension shit.
ANyone with a house that looks like a UFO on top of a hill? We should go there and take the house. Dibs on the big-screen TVs.
Take out capitalists and liberals and politicians, and we are halfway to heaven.
In fact, politicians, right? How about if we kill all of them? The next elections, don't throw unlit Molotov cocktails at them, or feed them dog food. Let's just kill them. Kill them all. Their families as well. Ham ka chan!
Let the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. And the many, needs your blood.
Tales from the Drunk Side: Conditional Happiness
A lot of people do not allow themselves to be happy.
Some, may not have a choice. I mean, if you're being raped by the mutant erection of a career dog-rapist(credit: Warren Ellis, Transmetropolitan), there are few ways of remaining happy as the dick enters your asshole.
For the rest of us, what's our excuse? Actually, that's the thing. Excuses.
The secret to happiness is simple: it is a choice.
However, some people put so many conditions to them being happy.
"I can only be happy if global warming is halted."
Fat chance. We're all going to die. Muahahahaha!
"I can only be happy if I am rich. I want a million dollars."
I want a Ferrari. Well, actually, no. Not a fan of Italian cars. Money doesn't bring you happiness. Money brings hookers. And hookers bring happiness. But not all of them do.
Sugar!
Spice!
And everything nice!
These are the ingredients to create the perfect little hookers.
But Professor Utonium accidentally mixes in another ingredient - Chemical X!
Chemical X - the secret ingredient that can only be understood after long periods with Whore-Priestesses of Shabda-Oud.
Back to happiness.
"I am not happy because of these people or that."
Wow. You give so much power over yourself to other people that you might as well be raped by the mutant erection of a career dog-rapist.
Me? I'm cruising, baby. I got some amber liquid with me. A few bottle of, well, something, and a Michael Moore documentary. I shall look upon tonight with fondness.
Some, may not have a choice. I mean, if you're being raped by the mutant erection of a career dog-rapist(credit: Warren Ellis, Transmetropolitan), there are few ways of remaining happy as the dick enters your asshole.
For the rest of us, what's our excuse? Actually, that's the thing. Excuses.
The secret to happiness is simple: it is a choice.
However, some people put so many conditions to them being happy.
"I can only be happy if global warming is halted."
Fat chance. We're all going to die. Muahahahaha!
"I can only be happy if I am rich. I want a million dollars."
I want a Ferrari. Well, actually, no. Not a fan of Italian cars. Money doesn't bring you happiness. Money brings hookers. And hookers bring happiness. But not all of them do.
Sugar!
Spice!
And everything nice!
These are the ingredients to create the perfect little hookers.
But Professor Utonium accidentally mixes in another ingredient - Chemical X!
Chemical X - the secret ingredient that can only be understood after long periods with Whore-Priestesses of Shabda-Oud.
Back to happiness.
"I am not happy because of these people or that."
Wow. You give so much power over yourself to other people that you might as well be raped by the mutant erection of a career dog-rapist.
Me? I'm cruising, baby. I got some amber liquid with me. A few bottle of, well, something, and a Michael Moore documentary. I shall look upon tonight with fondness.
Friday, April 2, 2010
World's Mightiest Mortal
Inna final analysis, everyone dies.
There is the day you die, which is just one day. In the big picture, the destination is merely a checkpoint. Can you say where rivers started and ended?
The whole point is not a point. It's a string. A ribbon. A route. A journey.
Make of it as you will.
There is the day you die, which is just one day. In the big picture, the destination is merely a checkpoint. Can you say where rivers started and ended?
The whole point is not a point. It's a string. A ribbon. A route. A journey.
Make of it as you will.
Leave it to Boron
I woke up today, not really sure where I was. It turned out to be just my room.
Some pain, remnants of a mild hangover. Took two aspirins. I believe in a life without pain, real or imagined.
Checked the Net. Checked emails. Made some phone calls. Sent a few SMSes. Set-up a meeting at 4pm. On my off day. But what to do?
Need. Haircut.
My Blackberrys make many things possible. SO do my netbook.
The city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face.
My name is Boron, king of kings; Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Some pain, remnants of a mild hangover. Took two aspirins. I believe in a life without pain, real or imagined.
Checked the Net. Checked emails. Made some phone calls. Sent a few SMSes. Set-up a meeting at 4pm. On my off day. But what to do?
Need. Haircut.
My Blackberrys make many things possible. SO do my netbook.
The city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face.
My name is Boron, king of kings; Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Drunken Writing: A Sobering Thought
I told you so.
Meanwhile, in an unrelated development, Din Beramboi just passed away at Selayang Hospital.
Meanwhile, in an unrelated development, Din Beramboi just passed away at Selayang Hospital.
Drunken Writing: Losing the Forest for the Trees
Never, ever, lose the forest for the trees. There is a big picture. Always get a bird's eye view.
It is easy to lose yourself in little details. Fuck the details. You can stomp your feet and make details behave.
Or I'll kill you.
Muahahahaha!
It is easy to lose yourself in little details. Fuck the details. You can stomp your feet and make details behave.
Or I'll kill you.
Muahahahaha!
Mabuk-Mabuk Kepayang: Akulah Syaitan IV
Akulah syaitan, tanpa sesalan
Mak ko datang, nak jadi besan
Aku rogol dia atas batu nesan
Mak ko mengerang macam dah datang bulan
Mak ko datang, nak jadi besan
Aku rogol dia atas batu nesan
Dah jadi macam harimau jadian
Macam anjing kehangatan
Mak ko mengerang macam dah datang bulan
Pantat mak kau kembang macam pantat pukimak mak bapak ko malas dah aku nak bersajak la, pantat mak kau!
Akulah syaitan, tanpa sesalan.
Mak ko datang, nak jadi besan
Aku rogol dia atas batu nesan
Mak ko mengerang macam dah datang bulan
Mak ko datang, nak jadi besan
Aku rogol dia atas batu nesan
Dah jadi macam harimau jadian
Macam anjing kehangatan
Mak ko mengerang macam dah datang bulan
Pantat mak kau kembang macam pantat pukimak mak bapak ko malas dah aku nak bersajak la, pantat mak kau!
Akulah syaitan, tanpa sesalan.
Mabuk-Mabuk Kepayang: Pantat Pukimak Mak Bapak Kau
Pertama sekali, ingin saya mulakan dengan pantat pukimak mak bapak ko.
Syaitan dalam konek aku dah mula terjaga daripada tidur. Ada aku kisah dengan pantat mak kau? Pantat pukimak mak bapak ko adalah. Setakat pantat mak kau, best sangat ke?
Melayu mudah lupa. Malaysia mudah lupa. Nanti aku kasi ingat semula. Kenapa aku jadi berhala.
Syaitan dalam konek aku dah mula terjaga daripada tidur. Ada aku kisah dengan pantat mak kau? Pantat pukimak mak bapak ko adalah. Setakat pantat mak kau, best sangat ke?
Melayu mudah lupa. Malaysia mudah lupa. Nanti aku kasi ingat semula. Kenapa aku jadi berhala.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Tales from the Drunk Side: Better than the Pope
As the world's greatest spiritual superstar, I will show you - all of you - the power of good and the way of the magic.
It's very simple, really.
1. In order to be free, you must surrender.
Islam, in Arabic, means 'surrender'. It doesn't mean anything but accepting how things are. In order to be effective, you need to first be okay with current things, and move from there.
2. In order to be free, you must let go
Let go of all desires. Any desire is a way for people to get at you.
Desires include money, women, approval, attention, recognition, validation, position etc.
Also, the desire to live or see your family alive.
When you have any desires, you are fucked because anyone can threaten you with a stick or dangle a carrot and you are theirs.
3. In order to be free, you must make a pilgrimage to Thailand
Thailand is a spiritual and physical experience. It is the source of all power. Spend time there with the whore-priestesses of Shabda Oud and learn all you can.
The last lesson from Thailand is to live without Thailand. When you understand that, no power in the universe can touch you.
It's very simple, really.
1. In order to be free, you must surrender.
Islam, in Arabic, means 'surrender'. It doesn't mean anything but accepting how things are. In order to be effective, you need to first be okay with current things, and move from there.
2. In order to be free, you must let go
Let go of all desires. Any desire is a way for people to get at you.
Desires include money, women, approval, attention, recognition, validation, position etc.
Also, the desire to live or see your family alive.
When you have any desires, you are fucked because anyone can threaten you with a stick or dangle a carrot and you are theirs.
3. In order to be free, you must make a pilgrimage to Thailand
Thailand is a spiritual and physical experience. It is the source of all power. Spend time there with the whore-priestesses of Shabda Oud and learn all you can.
The last lesson from Thailand is to live without Thailand. When you understand that, no power in the universe can touch you.
Tales from the Drunk Side: Hate on Me
People who pile on the hate are rank amateurs.
Me, I'm a professional hater. I am the Lord of Destruction. By sheer force of my hating, I can kill and destroy worlds.
The only reason I don't hate anymore is because I am busy. I am busy enjoying myself, so why the fuck should I hate?
Furthermore, after bringing down one Government, what else can I do? Do you really think focusing on individuals will give me the same satisfaction as an entire country's administration?
Nah, man. I'm all Zen now. Cause they can't fight space. I don't even use tai-chi. I am the emptiness that is space.
People come at me, and I am nothing.
Panting, they say, "You are nothing."
"So?"
And they puke blood.
When you have no desire for anything, there is nothing they can control you with. So you can be free.
Me, I'm a professional hater. I am the Lord of Destruction. By sheer force of my hating, I can kill and destroy worlds.
The only reason I don't hate anymore is because I am busy. I am busy enjoying myself, so why the fuck should I hate?
Furthermore, after bringing down one Government, what else can I do? Do you really think focusing on individuals will give me the same satisfaction as an entire country's administration?
Nah, man. I'm all Zen now. Cause they can't fight space. I don't even use tai-chi. I am the emptiness that is space.
People come at me, and I am nothing.
Panting, they say, "You are nothing."
"So?"
And they puke blood.
When you have no desire for anything, there is nothing they can control you with. So you can be free.
Tales from the Drunk Side: Wankathon Hypersigil
The current rise in temperature we are experiencing in Malaysia is, to me, proof that global warming is real. A clear and present danger.
I was sweating to 40 degrees Celcius just last week. In March, when the winds from the southwest should have brought rain to the West Coast, cooling things off.
Like dinosaurs, we soak it up, and hope for the best.
I have a drastic solution for this dire situation. We need nuclear winter to fight off global warming.
Where you nukes at? Where you warheads at? I suggest we nuke Afghanistan and Israel. Afghanistan and Israel have always been problematic. No one will miss them, except for some diamond traders in New York.
Let's blow 'em up, motherfuckers!
I was sweating to 40 degrees Celcius just last week. In March, when the winds from the southwest should have brought rain to the West Coast, cooling things off.
Like dinosaurs, we soak it up, and hope for the best.
I have a drastic solution for this dire situation. We need nuclear winter to fight off global warming.
Where you nukes at? Where you warheads at? I suggest we nuke Afghanistan and Israel. Afghanistan and Israel have always been problematic. No one will miss them, except for some diamond traders in New York.
Let's blow 'em up, motherfuckers!
Tales from the Drunk Side: Whatever Happened to the Lipstick Liberals?
Seriously.
What happened to those lip-service liberals who were all for freedom of speech and expression?
If you are for freedom of speech, you will fight for all manner of speech to be allowed. Not necessarily practiced, but allowed. Big difference there.
All you nouveau riche motherfuckers who claim to be oh-so-classy just turn out to be politicians in disguise.
The Trans-Liberals!
More that meats the eyes!
The Trans-Liberals!
Politicians in disguise!
Politicians (read: liars).
Fucking trannie-liberals. I am the last, great anarchist hope.
My anarchy is not a fashion statement. My beliefs in anarchy are not for winning votes, or even pussy. I am the last agent of anarchy left. The only one left to establish real, natural democracy.
Because democracy, is anarchy. The truest form of Alan Moore anarchy is ordnung - voluntary order. A world without leaders. Where everyone has a say. We already do, but it has not been institutionalised.
And where are the lipstick liberals? Probably sipping their lattes, talking to their lawyers about suing people.
And in the words of the great and terrible Alan Moore:
The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up around their waists...
...and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout, "Save us."
And I'll whisper, "No."
Never compromise. Never surrender. Not even in the face of Armageddon.
What happened to those lip-service liberals who were all for freedom of speech and expression?
If you are for freedom of speech, you will fight for all manner of speech to be allowed. Not necessarily practiced, but allowed. Big difference there.
All you nouveau riche motherfuckers who claim to be oh-so-classy just turn out to be politicians in disguise.
The Trans-Liberals!
More that meats the eyes!
The Trans-Liberals!
Politicians in disguise!
Politicians (read: liars).
Fucking trannie-liberals. I am the last, great anarchist hope.
My anarchy is not a fashion statement. My beliefs in anarchy are not for winning votes, or even pussy. I am the last agent of anarchy left. The only one left to establish real, natural democracy.
Because democracy, is anarchy. The truest form of Alan Moore anarchy is ordnung - voluntary order. A world without leaders. Where everyone has a say. We already do, but it has not been institutionalised.
And where are the lipstick liberals? Probably sipping their lattes, talking to their lawyers about suing people.
And in the words of the great and terrible Alan Moore:
The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up around their waists...
...and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout, "Save us."
And I'll whisper, "No."
Never compromise. Never surrender. Not even in the face of Armageddon.
Fuck Your Mother
Today was an extremely busy day. People would come up to me, say things, and in my head, it was just, "fuck your mother."
"Amir, where are the pictures for this and that?"
"Fuck your mother."
"Amir, this event or that."
"Fuck your mother."
"Amir, I'm engaged."
"Fuck your mother."
This is why I don't have a car.
If I do have a car, my brain will be cluttered with shit like, "Where did I park just now? Did I lock the car? Will anyone scratch it? Fuck your mother."
When I need to focus, I don't give a fuck. Except to fuck your mother.
"Amir, where are the pictures for this and that?"
"Fuck your mother."
"Amir, this event or that."
"Fuck your mother."
"Amir, I'm engaged."
"Fuck your mother."
This is why I don't have a car.
If I do have a car, my brain will be cluttered with shit like, "Where did I park just now? Did I lock the car? Will anyone scratch it? Fuck your mother."
When I need to focus, I don't give a fuck. Except to fuck your mother.
By the Byline
When I was a cadet journalist, I worked under Zainal Alam Kadir, who was then the entertainment editor of The Malay Mail.
He often told me that my strength was style - wanting to become a fiction writer, particularly comic books, I studied the styles of many writers - and that my weakness was that I was a lazy bastard.
I hated doing research. Background info was to me as appealing as dog vomit.
So there would be times, in those early days, when Alam would furnish some of my stories with more colourful and juicy facts, drawn from his decades-long experience in the business.
Being an egotistical young man, I asked him to share the byline with me, as it is no longer purely 'my story'.
"No," he said. "This is your story. Just like your other stories."
"But you added some stuff to it."
"That is my role as an editor. If everyone who added or modified the story in any way were to share the byline, then the byline itself would occupy a whole column. The writer. The editor. The subs, the graphic artists, etc."
The reasoning was simple. No matter what, the writers are first responsible for the stories. Taking accountability for that, means a lot. The editors are responsible for publishing the stories. Any lawsuits, and the editors are the first to take the stand.
Furthermore, editors usually have done everything the writers have. Meaning, none of them would be so petty and greedy and insecure to have their names alongside writers'.
He often told me that my strength was style - wanting to become a fiction writer, particularly comic books, I studied the styles of many writers - and that my weakness was that I was a lazy bastard.
I hated doing research. Background info was to me as appealing as dog vomit.
So there would be times, in those early days, when Alam would furnish some of my stories with more colourful and juicy facts, drawn from his decades-long experience in the business.
Being an egotistical young man, I asked him to share the byline with me, as it is no longer purely 'my story'.
"No," he said. "This is your story. Just like your other stories."
"But you added some stuff to it."
"That is my role as an editor. If everyone who added or modified the story in any way were to share the byline, then the byline itself would occupy a whole column. The writer. The editor. The subs, the graphic artists, etc."
The reasoning was simple. No matter what, the writers are first responsible for the stories. Taking accountability for that, means a lot. The editors are responsible for publishing the stories. Any lawsuits, and the editors are the first to take the stand.
Furthermore, editors usually have done everything the writers have. Meaning, none of them would be so petty and greedy and insecure to have their names alongside writers'.
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